Ghostly Affairs

by K. E. O'Connor

  “Thanks for the tea,” I said to Manfred as he headed towards the door. “And it’s nice to know Katie had someone she could rely on when she lived here. You supported her when she needed it, and I’m sure she appreciated that.” I risked a quick glance at Katie, and she nodded at me.

  “Yes, she felt it very much when her mother fought with her. Katie was always sensitive, and I worried she was too fragile to survive this family. I just hope I’m not right in that assumption.” Manfred left the room and gently shut the door behind him.

  I toyed with a pen on the desk as I mulled over his comments. Katie had enemies in this family and had gone against her strict mother’s wishes. Despite what Manfred said, that was a good motive for murder. And then there was Ranulph and Billy. I should have asked more questions about their relationships with Katie, but Manfred had been getting upset.

  I looked at Katie and smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. I’ll help you find some peace and sort out whatever is making you and Johnny stay here.”

  Katie pointed out the window in the direction of the garage, her image already fading away.

  “I know, it has something to do with the garage. I just wish you’d tell me what it was.” I leaned back in my seat and let out a sigh. I needed to talk to someone about all these leads, but my glum mood returned when I realized my best friend wasn’t even speaking to me, and she was just whom I needed.

  I glanced at Katie, but she’d vanished, leaving behind nothing more than a chilled feeling in the air. I hoped I wouldn’t have to try to solve these murders on my own.

  Chapter 11

  As soon as the working day was over, I dashed out of the study with Flipper, and out the front door of the house. I was determined to make it up with Helen, and I knew there was one surefire way to get back in her good books.

  I used the spare set of keys I had for her car and sped through the narrow lanes to Lavenham, the nearest village. As I reached the village and cruised past ancient timber buildings, and bright pots of late summer flowers, some of the tension left my shoulders. The village was small, with half-a-dozen stores, the usual pub, and a post office that doubled as a tearoom.

  One little store which caught my eye was a local confectioner called Mrs. Fudge and Mr. Chocolate. The window was full of boxes of treats, and the storefront was decorated in warm creams and dark chocolatey browns. This would be Helen’s dream store.

  I parked the car, left the window open for Flipper to get plenty of air, and hurried to the store, a bell jingling over my head as I pushed open the door.

  “Anything I can help you with?” A short, round-faced woman wearing a blue-checked apron over a bright-red dress smiled at me.

  “I’m in need of cookies and ice cream,” I said.

  “I can help with that. I’m Mrs. Fudge, known in the village for my love of chocolate.” She patted her stomach and grinned. “Any particular flavors you want?”

  “The more chocolate the better,” I said, as I looked around the store. It was as if I’d walked into a dream, the shelves full of sweets, a rich tang of cocoa in the air, and a batch of cookies on the wooden counter in front of me.

  “You’re in luck. I’ve been trying a new recipe for triple-chocolate fudge cookies. I’ve got two batches left,” said Mrs. Fudge.

  I eyed the large, chocolate-studded cookies beneath the counter and my mouth watered. “They look ideal.”

  “Would you like to sample one?”

  “Yes, please.” I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

  Mrs. Fudge broke off a piece of cookie, placed it on a white plate, and handed it to me.

  I inhaled the heady scent of rich cocoa, and a smile crossed my face.

  “It looks like you approve, and you haven’t even tasted it yet.” Mrs. Fudge beamed at me.

  “My friend is going to love these.” I lifted the cookie to my mouth. There was an explosion of rich chocolatey flavors on my tongue. And, as the chocolate chips melted, I knew all would be forgiven with Helen after she’d sampled these.

  “Will they do?” asked Mrs. Fudge, a twinkle in her dark eyes.

  “They’re perfect,” I said.

  “I’ll put them in a bag for you,” said Mrs. Fudge. “Is it your friend’s birthday?”

  “No, these are a sorry-for-being-an-idiot present,” I said.

  Mrs. Fudge raised her eyebrows. “We’ve all had plenty of those moments. Ice cream will go perfectly with these cookies. I know you said you can never have too much chocolate, but you need something to offset the richness. We have a local dairy that makes small batches of ice cream. The Vanilla Dream flavor will be ideal. And you can even make cookie ice-cream sandwiches with it.”

  This was a woman after my own heart. “I’ll take some of the ice cream as well.”

  Mrs. Fudge beamed again. “Excellent choices. No matter what you and your friend have argued about, it will all be forgotten once you’ve tried these flavor combinations.”

  I nodded and hoped Mrs. Fudge was right. I hated it when we weren’t speaking to each other. It felt like a vital part of me was missing. And as much as I loved Flipper, he wasn’t all that good at giving me advice about what to do in tricky situations.

  I paid for the cookies and ice cream before leaving the store, with a promise to come back and sample more of Mrs. Fudge’s delicious treats.

  Flipper was fast asleep on the backseat of the car when I returned, but I kept the food away from him, just in case he was tempted to sample it for himself.

  A quick dash back to the house, and I was in the kitchen, shrugging out of my jacket just as Helen burst through the kitchen door. In her hands was a large cake tin.

  “I’m sorry,” we said at the same time.

  Helen gave me a cautious smile and held the tin out towards me. “I didn’t mean to say all those things about you and Zach.”

  “And I didn’t mean to accuse your new boyfriend of killing anyone,” I said. “You know him better than I do. And if you trust him, then so do I.”

  Helen placed the tin on the kitchen table and ran forward to give me a hug. “He’s just so lovely. But I let my emotions get the better of me. I know you were just trying to help the ghosts.”

  I laughed as I clung to her. “I’m sure he is lovely. You’ll be very happy together.”

  Helen pulled away from me. “I made some macaroons. I know how much you love them.”

  “I didn’t make you anything, you’ll be glad to know. But I found an amazing store in the village. How do homemade cookies and ice cream sound? The genius store owner suggested we make ice-cream cookie sandwiches.”

  Helen clapped her hands together. “Looks like we’re having dessert for dinner.”

  I sat at the table, the tension between us gone, and made a start on building the ice-cream and triple-chocolate sandwiches, as Helen collected plates and drinks and made some tea.

  “I had an interesting conversation today with Manfred,” I said. “He and Katie were close. He even helped her to keep seeing Johnny after he’d been banned from the house.”

  “That’s surprising,” said Helen, as she sat down and placed mugs of tea on the table. “He seems like such a stickler for Lady Camilla’s rules.”

  “I think he bends them more than she realizes,” I said. “But he thinks Katie’s alive. I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Katie even appeared when we were in the study, and she seemed to care about Manfred too.”

  “That doesn’t get us any closer to figuring out what happened to Katie and Johnny.” Helen closed her eyes as she sank her teeth into the ice-cream sandwich. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted. It even beats my cookies.”

  “They’re not that good,” I said, although they were pretty incredible.

  “They are,” said Helen. “I’m going to have to find this store for myself. See if I can get the recipe for these.”

  Flipper looked up from where he was snoozing on the floor and began to whine. The pipes in
the wall started thudding, and Katie and Johnny stepped through into the kitchen, dropping the room temperature by about ten degrees.

  “Guessing we’ve got company,” said Helen, not taking her attention from her food.

  “You guessed right,” I said, before turning to Katie and Johnny as I licked chocolate from my fingers. “We’re a bit stuck here. All we keep discovering are more suspects. Any chance you can help us to figure out how you both died?”

  “And who did it,” said Helen.

  Johnny mimed driving a car.

  “We figured out that bit,” I said to him. “We know your deaths have something to do with the car in the garage.”

  “If you weren’t driving,” said Helen, her gaze going around the room, “could somebody have hit you with a car? Perhaps you were out walking along narrow lanes and someone didn’t see you in time.”

  Katie and Johnny both shook their heads.

  “They don’t like your theory,” I said. “Do either of you have any idea who was involved in your deaths?”

  Katie nodded and pointed at Helen. She then turned, pointed at Johnny, and shook her head.

  “I think Katie’s telling me it wasn’t a man who killed them,” I said. “She keeps pointing at you.”

  “It was a stunning blonde woman?” Helen smiled at me.

  Katie wrinkled her nose and waved her hands in the air.

  “Maybe not so stunning,” I said.

  Katie nodded.

  “It was definitely a woman who killed you?” I asked her.

  Another nod from Katie.

  “Which leaves only Lady Camilla in the frame,” said Helen. “And we know she’s been searching for Katie and Johnny ever since they disappeared.”

  “Do you suspect your mother of being involved?” I asked Katie.

  She shook her head vigorously.

  “But there aren’t any more female suspects,” I said. “I was thinking it was either your brother or Billy, especially after you two chased him away the other night.”

  Katie shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. Johnny grimaced and copied Katie’s movements.

  “They don’t seem sure about Billy,” I said to Helen. “But he’d never be mistaken for a woman, he’s too tall and muscular.”

  “What about Ranulph?” asked Helen. “Look at him with your eyes squinted in the dark and he could be a woman.”

  I chuckled. “Don’t let Ranulph hear you say he looks feminine, or he’ll pull another gun on us.”

  Katie shook her head and lowered her gaze.

  “Sounds like we need to look for a new female suspect,” said Helen. “If neither Katie nor Johnny think it was Lady Camilla, we must be missing something.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “But who? I don’t know of any other family, and no one else has been to visit. Other than Henry.”

  Helen shot me a sharp glare. “And we know he’s not involved.”

  “That’s just what I was about to say,” I said swiftly. “We need to rethink this. We must be missing somebody. Maybe a jealous ex-girlfriend of Johnny’s?”

  I saw Katie look over at Johnny, and he shook his head.

  “Did your parents approve of you being with Katie?” I asked Johnny.

  He nodded and took hold of Katie’s hand, a gentle smile passing over his face.

  “So, if your family approved, and you don’t have any jealous ex-girlfriends wanting revenge because they lost you to Katie, then I don’t know who we need to focus on.” I stuffed a large bite of melting ice cream sandwich into my mouth, hoping the sugar would fire up my brain cells and deliver me a new suspect.

  “Is there any chance you could be confused about your killer?” Helen asked. “I mean, you’re both dead, dying must be stressful.”

  Katie pursed her lips, but then gave a short nod.

  “It’s possible,” I said to Helen. “They are acting a bit confused. Maybe the whole car theory is wrong as well. We need to focus on people who are most likely to benefit from what happened.”

  Katie shrugged again and looked at the floor. Johnny gave her a sad smile and shook his head at me.

  I turned to Helen. “Ranulph is an obvious suspect, but I still wonder about Billy. He was making all sorts of unpleasant accusations about their relationship. His ego might be too big to accept he’s been found out as a liar. And, when he realized Katie and Johnny were serious, and he stood no chance, he could have been malicious enough to decide that if he couldn’t have her, no one could.”

  Katie dipped her head again and her shoulders slumped. I felt a mixture of pity and irritation with both ghosts. They needed to be more helpful, or we were never going to solve their deaths.

  “Unless this elusive female shows up, there’s not much else we can do,” said Helen. “Maybe one of our current suspects will point us in the right direction if they aren’t involved. They could know more about this woman.”

  “And, if she does exist, we’ll have to hope she hasn’t skipped the country before we find her,” I said.

  Chapter 12

  The delicious dinner of ice-cream sandwiches, macaroons, and tea was gone. I licked my finger and pressed the final crumbs off the plate to savor the last tasty morsels.

  “Time to go snooping?” asked Helen.

  I nodded. “Billy or Ranulph?”

  Helen grimaced. “They’re both awful. May as well start with Ranulph.”

  I watched as Katie and Johnny faded back into the wall, and then Helen, Flipper and I left the kitchen and headed towards the forbidden main staircase.

  I had to admit to feeling nervous about breaking the invisible barrier Lady Camilla enforced. One of her rules was that staff were not to go upstairs unless it was for work duties. And this was definitely not work related. In fact, it was the first time I’d gone up the staircase.

  “I saw Ranulph leave the house earlier this evening,” said Helen. “I’m sure he’s not back yet. We can have a look in his bedroom and see if we can find any clues.”

  I frowned, not liking the thought of spending even a second inside Ranulph’s bedroom, but it was an obvious place to look. “What are you hoping to find?”

  “Could be anything in there. Have you seen the back of the car Ranulph drives?” asked Helen. “If his room is the same, then he never throws anything away. If there’s evidence to be found, it will be under a disgusting heap of unwashed clothes. We could even find Katie and Johnny decomposing in one corner.”

  I wasn’t sure what I found more unpleasant, the discovery of two rotting bodies, or having to rifle through Ranulph’s dirty underpants. Both prospects made me feel queasy. “Let’s get this unpleasant task over with.”

  After a quick look around to make sure Lady Camilla wouldn’t see us sneaking upstairs, we dashed up the stairs.

  “Which one is his room?” I asked.

  “No idea,” said Helen. “I keep as far away from him as possible.”

  We tried the first couple of rooms without success. They both looked like guest rooms, neat and tidy, but not lived in.

  The third door I tried revealed a pale cream and bronze colored bedroom. Several items of Lady Camilla’s clothes were scattered on a dresser. “This isn’t it.” I softly closed the bedroom door just as Helen opened the next one.

  “This isn’t it either,” whispered Helen. “It’s being used as a storeroom.”

  At the end of the corridor, though, we struck gold. Well, musty, unclean gold. As Helen pushed open the bedroom door, her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her nose. “This is the most disgusting bedroom I’ve ever seen.”

  I peered over her shoulder and inhaled a heady mixture of dirty clothes and body odor. “You were right about Ranulph and his inability to keep things clean.” There were heaps of clothes on the floor and an overflowing hamper in one corner. A white chest of drawers was covered in opened product bottles, and the mirror had a film of grease and dust over it.

  “The man is a complete slob,” said Helen.


  This would pain Helen to see such a mess, and I knew she’d be itching to clean it. “Let’s look around and see what we can find. Maybe you’re right, and he’s left some clues as to his involvement in Katie and Johnny’s deaths.”

  Helen heaved a sigh as she kicked a pair of underpants out of her way, and walked into the room.

  “Flipper, you wait here and be our early-warning system.” I sat him by the door. “Any noise, or if anyone comes up the stairs, you let us know.”

  Flipper sat neatly on his haunches, his nose pointed at the door handle.

  I patted his head and turned back to the mess.

  “I’m not handling any of the pants.” Helen kicked more boxer shorts to one side.

  “Agreed. The dirty underwear is out of bounds.”

  “I’ll start over by the dresser,” said Helen.

  “I’ll try the bedside cabinet.” I walked over, took a breath to prepare myself for whatever horrors I might find inside the cabinet, and slid open the top drawer. Inside, was a box of tissues, some baby oil, and a few dirty magazines.

  I slammed the drawer shut and tried the next one. Inside, was an unopened box of tissues and an old mobile. I tried the mobile, but it was dead.

  The bottom drawer was empty.

  “Found anything useful?” I turned to Helen.

  Helen waved her hands in the air. “I’m too distracted to focus. All I want to do is put the lids on these bottles. There are hundreds of pounds of products on here, and all spoiled and drying out because that lazy slob can’t be bothered to put the lid back on after he’s used something.”

  “Leave everything as you found it,” I said. “If Ranulph thinks we’ve been snooping around, he won’t be happy.”

  “I know that,” said Helen. “But I’m not putting the pants back in the same place.”

  “I doubt he’ll notice those have been moved,” I said. “Anything in the drawers?” I walked over to Helen.

  “Underwear and socks in the top two. Let’s see what’s in this one.” She slid open the next drawer, and we were greeted with piles of crumpled paper. Helen pulled out a couple of sheets and smoothed them out. “Credit card bills. What a surprise, Ranulph has no concept of how to manage money.”